The Carmilla Complex
by The Karnstein
Summary: A beautiful young girl arrives at the Hellsing estate, asking for the young new leader of the Hellsing Organization...


**The Carmilla Complex**

"Sir Integra," a soft knock rapped against her bedroom door.

The male voice on the other side did not belong to Walter, though the young mistress of the Hellsing Organization recognized the voice. The sun's rays peaked through her large bedroom windows; it must have been noon, perhaps nearing 1:00 AM. She had been making a habit of sleeping in later in the day in order to work all night. Her young life changed entirely with the death of her father and the resurrection of Alucard. She had to make adjustments to her schedule in order to run this organization, and when she heard this sudden interruption, she immediately assumed that she must have slept in too late.

She quickly pulled a white robe over her small frame, tied back her long hair and adjusted her glasses. She pushed open the door and saw one of the security guards standing before her. Her posture straightened and she looked up at the very tall man.

"Is it an emergency, officer?" she asked him, her tone becoming slightly harder than usual.

The officer shook his head. "No ma'am, but there is a... curious situation." Integra raised her eyebrows in curiosity, but beckoned him to continue. "It seems that you have a visitor... a young lady."

"A young lady?" Integra repeated. That statement confused her. She had never attended a private school, and her life was never exactly social. Why would she have a young lady as a visitor? "…How young is this lady?"

"Perhaps your age, Sir Hellsing. She says she was the daughter of Sir Spielsdorf, a good knight and friend to your father. I believe she has come to pay her respects."

Integra sighed, crossing her arms and staring down at the floor. Her father's death was hard for her to accept, and the constant reminders of his passing were beginning to weigh down on her. She had received countless letters full of sympathy and remorse from the other knights, even one from the queen herself. Servants under her service had paid their respects to her in person. But this young lady, daughter of Sir Spielsdorf, was the first to actually come to the Hellsing estate in person to pay her respects. That had to count for something.

"Send her in. I shall be down shortly." She said to the officer. He saluted her, and then retreated down the hall. Integra closed the door behind her and slipped into her clothes.

Within moments she found herself walking down the dark hallways of her estate. In just a week, everything had changed, even the way she dressed. She had traded in her long skirts and red ribbons for tailored suits and ties, but still kept her love for long jackets. At times she had contemplated cutting her hair, but always decided against it. At first she thought shorter hair would better suit her androgyny, which would probably aid her when dealing with men. If she weren't attractive, they would be less concerned with her looks and more concerned with her skills.

But when she got down to it, the truth of the matter was that her hair was her one vanity. It seemed petty to keep it long and golden simply because she thought it was beautiful, but when she considered the options, wouldn't it be petty of the Round Table Conference to be distracted by something as trivial as beautiful, long hair? In the end, it all came down to being professional. And that was exactly how she was going to carry herself in front of this visitor: people were going to judge her because of her young age and gender. She would have to make an effort to make sure they did not take her for granted.

As she stepped into the main hall, she noticed that the other servants had welcomed her guest into the estate. Integra descended down the stairway and crossed the hall to greet the young woman. At a distance, she noticed the girl was petite and thin with straightened black hair. She wore a long white coat and an unusual hat. Integra approached the girl, stopping only a few feet infront of her. The girl's head was lowered, and her long hair and strange hat made it impossible for Integra to get a good look at her face.

"Sir Integra, this is Miss… Mircalla Spielsdorf, is it?" the officer from before had asked.

The strange girl nodded, but did not lift her head. Instead, she lifted her hand in Integra's direction. Her hand was small, covered by a thin white glove. Integra, though irritated with this girl's refusal to look her in the eye, accepted her hand.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," the girl said, her voice quiet and hinted with an accent. Hungarian, it sounded. "On behalf of my father and our family, I am truly sorry for your loss."

Integra took a breath, and then nodded back to her. "Thank you," she said. "I… appreciate you taking the time to pay your respects in person…"

The girl still refused to look her in the eye. This was visibly annoying Integra further.

"I apologize, but… I have we met before?" Integra asked.

At this, Mircalla lifted her head. Integra felt a shiver shoot down her spine upon seeing the small face of the person before her. Her skin was nearly as pale as the coat she wore. Her lips were small, but her eyes were very large and abstractly reminded Integra of a lazy housecat. The girl seemed to be quite shy, but smiled at Integra.

"We have," she whispered. "Do you not remember the royal ball that the queen had thrown in honor of Knights of the Round Table?"

Integra's immediate respond would have been "no," but almost instantly, images began to flood her mind. Memories of a large, elegant ballroom filled with well-dressed men and ladies in large, floor-length gowns. She remembered seeing her father standing with Sir Penwood and Sir Islands, laughing over their brandies and discussing the past. She remembered seeing herself, a young lady of only ten years, wearing a sky blue gown that's beauty was thrown off entirely due to Integra's large, round glasses.

And then she remembered seeing her. Standing in the shadows in her long, white dress was the shy creature Integra saw before her now. She seemed to be watching the dancers… or perhaps, she was watching Integra. Within the next second, Integra saw herself standing beside the girl, holding her hand and leading her in the direction of her father.

They both seemed quite happy… the memory in itself seemed quite beautiful. How could Integra forget such a moment?

"Yes… yes, I remember you." Integra said, then chuckled. "And… if I recall correctly…"

Mircalla smiled back at her. "…I tried to teach you how to dance?"

At that moment, a second memory came to Integra. The two girls back in that shadowy corner of the ballroom, near the band. Mircalla with one small hand on Integra's waist and the other holding her hand as they moved and swayed to the sound of the music. Integra smiled again at the memory and nodded.

"Yes, you tried." She said, smiling again. "It is… very good to see you again, Mircalla…" she hesitated for a moment, then spoke again. "Perhaps, if you do not have any plans… would you care to stay? I can arrange for Walter to set up a room for you, if you like."

At this, Mircalla simply beamed. "Yes… I think I would like that very much."

It was unusual… Integra half expected one of the men to remind her of her duties as the head of Hellsing. That perhaps now wouldn't be the best time to have a guest. When none of them said such a thing, not even suggested it, it felt rather… _off._ But she assumed that it only meant that it was alright to have this houseguest. And so Integra invited Mircalla into her estate, beckoning her to follow her to her room.

Upon making it into her bedroom, it occurred to Integra that she honestly had no idea who this Sir Spielsdorf was. The name in itself _did_ sound familiar, but she never recalled hearing it from her father, or from the other knights. Perhaps when she and Mircalla had met at the ball, she was so absorbed with her new friend that she didn't take the time to meet her father. But that didn't sound right… certainly at some point Mircalla would have introduced them. Or Integra would have at least taken the liberty of saying hello to a new companion's father.

Actually… for being a good friend of her father, why didn't Integra at least hear of this man before her father's passing? She hadn't formally been introduced to Sir Penwood, but her father at least spoke of him.

"Something on your mind, Integra?"

Mircalla's soft voice broke Integra away from her thoughts and questions. She glanced over her shoulder, seeing Mircalla gracefully, almost obediently, following behind her. There was something so strange about her. Her small lips formed into a very amused smile, as if something about Integra was causing her a great deal of pleasure. Being laughed at was not something Integra took kindly to, and her eyes narrowed.

"Is there something funny?" she asked.

Mircalla chuckled, then moved in close. Her small hand touched Integra's wrist, stopping her in her tracks. Integra, caught completely off guard by this action, turned to face the strange little creature before her. And to her surprise, Mircalla seemed to be moving closer.

"You are… truly unlike any person I have met before." Mircalla sighed. "You think too much… you walk, dress, even speak like a person perhaps ten years older."

Integra blinked. "…Why is that funny, then?" she asked.

Mircalla shook her head, and slowly her hand crept up to brush Integra's long bangs behind her ear. This bold move sent a shiver coursing up Integra's spine. She did not know how to react to this.

"I smile, only because perhaps… I _envy_ you, Integra." She whispered, leaning closer. "I am bound to someone… there is a person who controls me, who determines every action I make… I do not mind such slavery, for lack of better terms. I have a gentle master… but… the power you wield… the choices you can make at such a young age… your freedom, your command, the respect you are given… _I… envy… it…."_

Integra felt her heart pounding as this girl moved closer. And with every nearing inch, Mircalla's tone seemed to be growing softer… even dreamlike.

"Is your father… a bad man?" Integra asked. "Does he abuse you?"

Mircalla chuckled, and Integra felt that uncomfortable shiver when the girl touched her face this time. "No, no… I would not call it abuse… though I am hoping that, perhaps, someday… someday I could become an equal, or perhaps… the master…"

As she spoke, Integra looked deeply into the eyes of the girl before her. She watched as Mircalla leaned in closer, her large eyes fluttering closed, and her lips drawing near.

In that instant, the snapping sound of knuckles striking flesh cracked the air. Mircalla's body whipped to the side, falling onto the ground. Integra glared down at her, her clenched fist shaking, her eyes hardening. Everything instinct in this moment of passion was beckoning her to run over and kick this creature in her ribs, but she knew it would be useless. Though Mircalla had struck the floor, she was not writhing in pain. Her hands did not move to her cheek to touch the broken skin. She was not reacting at all.

"_Spielsdorf_…" Integra spat_. "Mircalla…_ did you honestly think for a second that my father raised a stupid little girl, Alucard!"

Upon dropping the name, the girl on the floor began to chuckle. Her shoulders were shaking and her body was trembling. Then a very deep, familiar laugh forced it's way out of her. When the girl lifted her head, her large eyes had widened, the irises now blood red and flaming like hellfire. Her small lips and tiny mouth split into a very large, wide smile, revealing several very sharp teeth. In an instant, those memories of the ballroom had vanished completely, like waking up from a very realistic dream. There was no Sir Spielsdorf, and there was no Mircalla… not in this lifetime at least.

"Taken from the pages of a storybook…" Integra growled, her rage building. "The so called 'fictional' short story about a beautiful young vampire seducing a young, wealthy women. Gaining their trust and friendship before destroying them. And before she was put down by one General Spielsdorf, she went by several aliases: Countess Karnstein, Millarca, _Mircalla_… and **_Carmilla_**."

As she spoke, the body of the girl on the floor twisted and altered, taking the shape of the vampire from the dungeons. He stood before her, looking down upon his master, that damned grin never leaving his face. And Integra merely smirked at him.

"You are never to pull anything like that again." She spat. "Or I will see to it that you stay in that bloody dungeon forever." Then she pointed to the door. "Now get out and never come anywhere near my room again."

Alucard replied as he always did: he removed his hat, folded it over his chest, and bowed to her. "Whatever you wish… my Master…" And in an instant, he was gone.

Integra glared hard, then turned away from the door. Clearly keeping a vampire in her home, especially a vampire capable of manipulating the thoughts and memories of her and the others around her, was a dangerous game for her to be playing.

Nevertheless, this would be the last time something like this would ever happen again.

_She_ was the master. And she would be damned if he would ever change that.


End file.
